


A Calm In The Storm

by orphan_account



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: BDSM, Bondage and Discipline, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 19:53:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the bindings come off, she goes back to balancing the globe again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Calm In The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> (Fixed a few continuity errors)

Garrus always takes the collar off first and Shepard's shoulders always sag a bit afterwards. Partially, he knows, it's relief. Submission is hard for her. She is, after all, commander fucking shepard, savior of the citadel and destroyer of the collectors. But within the relief there is disapointment. She's like the mythological atlas, balancing the world on her shoulders and he lets her, for a few hours, take a break. When the bindings come off, she goes back to balancing the globe again.

Untying always is faster than the ritual dance of tying. Shepard doesn't speak. Sweaty red hair is stuck to her forehead and he brushes it back as he reaches for the ropes around her hands. She surrenders them. With the knots undone, Garrus kisses the red marks on her wrists. When they started these games he worried that the ropes were too tight. "A little pain," she had assured him, "is ok." He smiles wickedly. Having a girlfriend with a high pain tolerence has its benefits.

The great Commander Shepard trusts him enough to kneel naked at his feet and call him master. His heart swells at the thought as he moves down, undoing the bonds around her thighs and ankles. The rope has left more pink track marks on her legs to. It is beautiful. He brushes his finger along one.Finally, he reaches for the buckle behind her head. Shepard works her jaw for a moment while Garrus places the gag in a drawer. He'll wash it later. Right now, she needs him. 

She half smiles up at him now and he takes her in his arms. She's shaking and part of it is the chill of the air on bare, sweaty skin and part of it adrenaline. It's her normal reaction after a session and so he does what he always does. He holds her close to him and she takes a long shakey breaths. 

"That was good," Shepard mutters, her face buried in an arm. "Really good." She's still shaking so he wraps the blanket around them both. 

"Good girl," he says as she shifts so she's half lying on his chest. "Rest." Her eyes are red rimmed. She cries when she orgasms these days. He suspects that she works so hard to hold herself together despite losses of team mates and friends that letting go in one area causes everything to unravel. It doesn't bother him. Her privacy, her tears, are safe with him.

They started these games a few months ago, after Menae. Suprisingly, she had brought up the idea of ceding control. He should have been less shocked in hindsight. She had never been under more stress, never had so many lives riding on her performance. Who wouldn't want a break now and then? He's more than willing to give it to her. Plus, he loves the way her moans sound around a gag. 

Garrus runs a hand down Shepard's back and pushes the blanket back. She mumbles a complaint, but quiets when he reaches for the oil. Her ass is raw and red and he can see a few welts on it. Nothing too bad, nothing she didn't ask for, nothing that could injure thier performance the next day in the field. He starts at her lower back and Shepard sighs happily. He keeps moving, working his way down her behind and onto her upper thighs. By the time he's done, she's already asleep. There will be some faded bruises later, but she told him once she liked that. The reminder of what they had done, what would happen again. It was always intense. Both of them knew every time might be the last.

"EDI," he calls, "dim the lights and," he hesitates, "divert all messages to Shepard to my omni-tool for the next five hours."

"Shepard did not mention-" EDI begins, her omni-present voice filling the otherwise silent cabin. Shepard shifts in her sleep, mumbles something about a bomb into the pillow. 

"EDI," he argues, "she's sleeping." His voice is low. There's a pause before EDI answers.

"I see. I will do as you suggest." The lights dim and Garrus is left as alone as you can get on a ship with an unshackled AI. He suspects EDI knows about thier games (she is the Normandy, she knows everything) but, for some reason, hasn't asked. He's thankful for that at least. He starts to get up- he has a few things that need done- but Shepard's hand is locked around his wrist. Even in her sleep the grip tightens. 

Garrus shakes his head and settles in. She's been seeing ghosts in her dreams again and someone has to call her back into the land of the living. The work, for the moment, can wait.


End file.
